


Moving On

by AGJ1990



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 17:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18077726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGJ1990/pseuds/AGJ1990
Summary: Third and final part to Love Kills and What Might Have Made all the Difference.





	Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural belong to me. 
> 
> I’m gonna be real here for a minute. I almost stopped writing Supernatural stories this weekend. I got a comment about how my portrayal of John as an abusive ‘asshole’ was getting old and boring and was a ‘waste’ of my talent.
> 
> I want to explain, again, that I do not hate John Winchester. I see him as a tragically flawed human being, one who allowed his obsession with catching Mary’s killer to overshadow his responsibilities as a father. I believe that he genuinely loved his children, but his hunt for revenge took a bigger place in his life. I understand and respect that some people hold different opinions of John. There are plenty of stories where I portray John in a positive light. Not perfect, but more positive than I do in this story. 
> 
> I’ve decided not to change my writing style. I write John the way I do because it’s therapeutic for me. It’s the way I deal with the deterioration of the relationship with my father. Chances are, when I write a negative story about John, something negative has happened with me concerning my dad. Like my sister trying to reach out to him and him telling her ‘don’t worry about it’. Or finding out that he’s taken in my sister’s abusive soon to be ex husband into his home. So, while my portrayal of John might be getting old, I’m not stopping. If anyone doesn’t like it, you’re more than welcome to move on and not continue reading. If you do like it, great and thank you for the support.

Then-

 

_John looked at Sam’s grave one last time. It was a simple inscription, his name, birthdate, and the day of his death. John thought about speaking to Sam, but decided it wouldn’t do any good. He’d never really believed in long, drawn out goodbyes. They only caused more pain than necessary. So, with nothing more than an ‘I’m sorry’ to Sam, John lifted the gun to his head. A loud bang that John barely registered was the last sound to reach his ears before the world went black._

Now-

 

A sharp jolt of pain, and John yelled as he was pushed hard onto the ground. He hadn’t heard anyone else in the cemetery with him, but he was drunk enough it was entirely possible he hadn’t seen them. When John sloppily tried to stand up to face whoever had pushed him down, he was certain that he was hallucinating.

 

“Sammy?”

 

“Hi, dad.”

 

“W…what are you doing here?”

 

“You’ve been doing this long enough, Dad. You should know by now.”

 

John nodded as realization struck him. “A spirit.”

 

“That’s right.” Sam said.

 

“Sam, I’m sorry.” John said, for what felt like the thousandth time in the last week.

 

“I know, Dad. I know you are. I’m sorry too.”

 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Sammy. Nothing at all.”

 

“Dad, stop. I know what you’re thinking. I’m an angry spirit, here for revenge. But I’m not. I hung around because I had a feeling either you or Dean would try something like this.”

 

“You can do that?”

 

“There’s a lot you do know about the supernatural, Dad. But there’s still a lot you have left to learn.”

 

John took a ragged breath. “Are you…okay? Are you….?”

 

“I’m in heaven. I’m with mom. We’re both okay. We’re both at peace. But it’s not your time, Dad. You can’t come with us yet.”

“But I can’t do this without you, Sam.”

 

“You have to, Dad. You’re all Dean has left. You can’t leave him here alone.” Sam said.

 

“I’ll just end up hurting him like I did you.”

 

“Dad, what happened to me was an accident. I get that. Dean gets that. Hell, even the cops get that. But beating yourself up about it is not gonna do any good. You still have a life, Dad. And it can only be what you make of it. But you have to make _something_ of it. Please, Dad. I need you to keep going. Help Dean keep going. I need you to do this for me, Dad.”

 

“I don’t know if I can.” John answered honestly.

 

Sam decided to try something different. “Dad, you want to make this up to me, right?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“Then stay. Stay here and keep Dean safe. Give him the family that he needs. Don’t tear up what little bit he has left. Don’t destroy him. Please, Dad. I’m begging you. Do this for me.”

 

John nodded. “I will. Sam, I…”

 

When John choked and couldn’t finish, Sam smiled. “I know, Dad. I love you too. Stay safe, okay?”

 

Sam turned and vanished, leaving a devastated John behind. He hit his knees, weeping, thinking of various memories of Sam. Laughing at some stupid joke that Dean told. Playing in the park with him at age five. Grabbing him off the swing set and holding him close. Watching him blush when he talked about his first girlfriend. So many things that John had taken for granted when they happened, that he wished he could have back. When he was finally cried out, John stood up and saw Dean and Bobby watching him from the end of the cemetery. Dean walked towards him and helped him up.

 

“You okay, Dad?”

 

“I will be.”

 

“Let’s go home?” Dean asked hopefully.

 

“Yeah, Dean. Let’s do that. Let’s go home.”


End file.
